Over the past few years, I have encountered several movements and collectives formed through the initiative of young people who arrived in Italy from different countries around the world. Some have come together in diaspora collectives, while others are part of broader movements. They are vibrant, often hybrid spaces, where the experience of migration intersects with the desire to create new political spaces—free from hierarchies and imposed representations.
What stands out when observing them closely is their choice to organize horizontally: a model that rejects top-down structures and is based on consensus, participation, and mutual trust.
For these groups, horizontality is not simply a matter of methodology. It is a political act—a way of saying “no” to the mechanisms of power that have often excluded them, and of asserting a form of collective autonomy.And yet, this way of working, so coherent and necessary, clashes with the pace and language of institutional systems.
The world of project proposals, funding calls, and partnerships demands quick decisions, ready-to-submit documents, and immediate signatures. But in a horizontal collective, no one decides alone: every decision emerges from a discussion, sometimes a lengthy one, involving everyone.This process, which is the group’s true strength, can become an obstacle when a rapid response is needed.
A funding call may close, a partnership may fall through, or an opportunity may be lost—not because of a lack of ideas or willingness, but because the external structure fails to recognize the value of participatory time.For those of us who, like me, operate within faster-moving systems, this dynamic can be difficult to understand and manage.
We are accustomed to thinking in terms of deadlines, results, and targets. We are immersed in a rhythm that measures effectiveness through speed and execution, rather than through the quality of the process.And when we find ourselves working with groups that operate differently, there is a risk of perceiving their slowness as inefficiency, of experiencing waiting as a limitation rather than as a form of collective building.
And yet, that slowness speaks to something we often forget: the politics of time. Making decisions together—truly together—means slowing down, listening, and negotiating. It means recognizing that participation requires space, care, and also the possibility of not always being immediately productive.From this perspective, the tension between horizontality and urgency is not merely organizational, but cultural.
Perhaps the challenge is not to ask collectives to adapt to the timelines of project development, but to imagine new forms of collaboration capable of accommodating both ways of working. Forms in which those working within institutional contexts can unlearn something about their own pace, while those working horizontally can find room to act without having to compromise their principles.Horizontality is not inefficiency: it is a different form of responsibility, distributed and shared. But for it to fully exist, it needs a context that recognizes and supports itAnd here, I admit, my own reflection remains open.I still don’t know how this horizontal way of working can, in the meantime, find its own practical and operational dimension—how it can translate into concrete action without betraying its own coherence.Perhaps there is no answer yet. Or perhaps it is being built slowly, precisely through the everyday attempts to bring different timelines, languages, and visions into dialogue.
Roberta Lo Bianco
